Tuesday, September 29, 2015

3AM phone calls are never good

The thing is, I was awake anyway, so I picked up the phone on the first ring.

It was my older sister. Mom died peacefully just after 6AM Eastern time. She slipped away when all four of my siblings had dropped off to sleep after being up with her all night. It is just like her to do that.

I've been processing this information for two hours now. I feel oddly detached, but I actually think that's pretty common, so not odd. Of course it could just be the Thyrogen shot that's making me feel weird.

I know I'm sad, but I don't feel like crying. I'm sure I will eventually, but crying is a tremendously difficult physical process for me, like hiccups (which are also very painful for me) but a hundred times worse. Crying never makes me feel better, so I don't. I mean, my eyes leak from time to time when I get choked up about something (I'm quite sentimental sometimes), but the sobbing, chest-heaving kind of crying is really quite horrible for me.

What I'm expecting is, I'll be fine until some random thing pushes me over an edge and then I'll lose it for a bit. There's a 100% chance that someone's expression of sympathy will be that random thing.

It is not a bad thing to say that Mom's death comes as a relief. She was suffering so much, and to lose her sight at the end was probably not the worst thing she had to endure physically but mentally was such a blow. Now she is at peace, with Dad and all her family that have gone before her.

And it's not just a relief for her, but for all of us, too. That sounds bad! It shouldn't. These weeks have been very hard on my brothers and sisters, watching her deteriorate and trying to keep her comfortable. I feel I can never thank them enough for the time and care they gave to Mom over this time. We have all be drawn closer together through these events.

I hope we can stay that way. Trying to imagine our family without Mom is impossible. We'll see how it goes.

1 comment:

You were close to your mom. I had a more troubled relationship with my dad and so when he died two years ago, I was not surprised that I did not cry, not then, not later. But crying is not a marker of anything. I cry at stupid things. But my father -- I just think about him a lot.